


mattsun is hipster trash

by mattsunsthighs



Series: Matsuhana Week [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, edit: im gonna keep this as a oneshot; the ideas i had for continuing this died, fun fact: Mattsun is part native Hawai'ian, makki has a Big Gay Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 02:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4504146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattsunsthighs/pseuds/mattsunsthighs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matsukawa is a guitar player who plays cheesy hipster love songs at the campus coffee shop, Oikawa is the meddlesome barista trying to set up his stubborn friend with a date, and poor Hanamaki just wants to pass his biochemistry class.</p><p>Matsukawa Week 2015, Day 3: Coffee Shop</p>
            </blockquote>





	mattsun is hipster trash

**Author's Note:**

> I made a playlist for this fic [here](http://8tracks.com/blue-eyed-hanji/mattsun-is-hipster-trash)

Low chattering of multiple conversations and the clicking of laptop keyboards. The whooshing sound of the espresso machine as it whipped hot milk. Large coffee machines that gurgled as they brewed up gallons of coffee. The crackling of the large and highly unnecessary fireplace in the corner. The strong and endless smell of coffee that permeated every corner of the room. These were all the elements that made up the Fresh Leaf Cafe, a student-managed coffee house located in the heart of the economic campus of Tokyo University. It made sense, a small establishment set up for and run by the students that were studying business management. What didn’t make sense was its… hipstery decor; like it was run by a bunch of fine arts students and not business majors.

The cafe had wood paneled walls and floors, covered with an assortment of plush carpets, and instead of just the typical table and chair setup, there were also couches and armchairs spread around the cafe. In one corner was a cleared space where a small sound system and a bar stool were set up for the occasional live music performance. Tonight however, the stool was unoccupied, and there was soft music playing over the cafe’s stereo system. The one thing that made the Fresh Leaf Cafe unique from other coffee houses around Tokyo however, aside from its 24 hour schedule _and_ free wifi, was the massive amount of fairy lights that were strung practically everywhere. They lined the windows and doors, were wrapped around the wooden posts that supported the ceiling, ran along the length of the barista counter, and covered almost every inch of the rafter beams that criss crossed above the cafe and its patrons. The owner had said something about how soft light was good for a calming environment, or whatever.

Hanamaki let out a heavy sigh as he leaned back and popped the stiff vertebrae in his back, scrubbing his hands down his face. It was just gone midnight, and he had been seated on a large, warm couch situated in a corner of the cafe for the better part of six hours, pouring over his biochemistry notes for a test he had the following morning until his head hurt. Leaning his head back so that he was staring at the web of lights above him, Hanamaki mused that it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to pull an all-nighter the night before a big exam, but he needed to study the material, and biochem wasn’t his best subject. He stared up unseeingly at the lights for who knows how long and let his mind wander, until a rather high and nasally voice cut through the cloud that had begun to fog up his brain.

“Makki-chan, do you want another coffee or are you planning on falling asleep in that ridiculous position?”

Hanamaki jerked his head up and looked over at the barista counter, where a tall figure with wavy brown hair stood behind the bar, staring at him as they wiped down the counter surface. Oikawa Tooru, who had been his roommate in their first year of university, worked the late night shift at the Fresh Leaf, and he was watching Hanamaki expectantly with his large brown eyes. Nodding his head at Oikawa, Hanamaki set his laptop down next to him and stood up from the couch, stretching out his shoulders and neck as he crossed the mostly empty cafe to sit at the counter where Oikawa was preparing him another coffee.

“Thanks, Oikawa,” he mumbled, covering his mouth with his palms as he let out a huge yawn that made his jaw pop audibly, “how many coffees does this make now? Ten? Twenty?”

Oikawa let out a soft laugh, “this is only your third one, Mister Drama King,” he said, sliding the white mug toward Hanamaki, who picked it up and let the warmth from the beverage spread to his fingertips before taking an experimental sip. “Are you going to head home soon, or are you staying a bit longer?”

Hanamaki looked at him over the rim of the mug. “‘M staying. I gotta get this stuff down before my test at 10 tomorrow. If I go home I’ll only end up falling asleep. Why?” he asked, mildly, “you’re not planning some scheme or something, are you?”

At that, Oikawa threw his hand over his heart and gasped in a dramatic fashion, looking affronted, “Makki! I’m insulted that you would think so low of me!” Hanamaki’s only response was to raise one eyebrow at Oikawa, suspicion evident in his tired eyes, “I was only asking because a friend of mine from high school just returned from Hawai’i and is coming by the cafe tonight. He mentioned that he studied a bit of biochemistry at the university out there, so he could probably help you with your studying.”

Hanamaki set down his mug, “Why would he go to a coffee shop at,” he paused, checking the time, “12:45 in the morning?”

Oikawa shrugged his shoulders, “Who knows, Mattsun is Mattsun. And you’re one to talk, Makki-chan, seeing as you are also at a coffee shop at 12:45 in the morning,” he said, a knowing smile on his face.

“That’s different, I’ve been here since 6 pm,” Hanamaki huffed defensively. He had no idea what kind of person this “Mattsun” was, and therefore didn’t want to be compared to him. As he raised his mug to take another sip of coffee, the bell attached to the front door of the cafe rang, indicating that someone had just walked in.

“Speak of the devil!” Oikawa called out, addressing the person who had just entered and waving happily, “Mattsun, it’s been a while!”

Hanamaki swiveled his bar stool around towards the door to see a tall young man who appeared to be their age enter the cafe. He had dark messy hair that looked as though he had just rolled out of bed, thick eyebrows, and plugs in his earlobes. He also had a guitar case slung over his shoulder and his attire absolutely screamed "hipster". Not wanting to be caught staring at the newcomer, Hanamaki turned his attention back to the coffee in his hands and took a long gulp of the hot liquid so as to avoid having to say anything and make a total fool of himself right off the bat.

"Hey, Oikawa! Long time no see." The new guy walked over to the corner where the barstool was and slid his guitar case off his shoulder and set it against the wall, making doubly sure it wouldn't slide and fall to the floor before heading over to where Hanamaki and Oikawa were and taking a seat in the empty chair next to Hanamaki, who took this opportunity to get a better look at his hipster getup. His jeans were artfully torn, showing small strips of tanned thighs, and if Hanamaki wasn't mistaken, this guy's shirt was cropped short to reveal an equally tanned midriff beneath the jacket he was wearing, but he couldn't be too sure under the low lighting of the cafe. To top off the ensemble, he also had a scarf with some abstract pattern printed on the material draped lazily around his neck.

“Oh, Makki-chan, this is Mattsun!” Oikawa chirruped happily, and Hanamaki had to repress the urge to to cover his ears from Oikawa’s voice which had gotten louder in the quiet cafe, if that were possible. Instead, he stretched his hand out to Mattsun, who took it in his own, smiling at him.

“Matsukawa Issei. Always a pleasure to meet someone who can put up with this prancing peacock for more than ten minutes,” Matsukawa’s smile went from pleasant to something mischievous as he jerked his head toward Oikawa, who was pouting at him. Hanamaki could tell that he was going to get along well with this newcomer, despite his questionable taste in wardrobe.

“Hanamaki Takahiro. And I’m pretty sure ‘pining mess’ would be a more accurate description of him, wouldn’t you agree, Oikawa?” he said, smiling as well and directing the last bit with a wide, knowing smirk at said barista, who was now red in the face and spluttering at Hanamaki, while Matsukawa let out a loud laugh at his words. Oikawa flung himself onto the bar counter, reaching for Hanamaki and wailing, but he dodged Oikawa easily by leaning back on his stool and clutching his coffee mug possessively to his chest.

“Makki-chaaaaaan! How cruel! And to think we were friends, too, but you go and say such mean things!”

“I speak only the truth,” Hanamaki deadpanned, taking a final sip of his coffee while Matsukawa sniggered at Oikawa’s dramatic display.

“Did I hear this right, Oikawa?” Matsukawa asked, dropping all humor with a look of incredulity on his face, “You still haven’t asked out Iwaizumi yet? What exactly are you waiting for, an invitation? Although…” he trailed off, glancing at Hanamaki thoughtfully, who had hopped off his stool and zipped behind the pastry display to swipe two cream puffs from the case. Their eyes met, and Hanamaki shrugged around a mouthful of pastry, clearly as bemused as Matsukawa. Matsukawa sighed and hung his head, staring down at the wood floors.

“Amazing. I leave the country for a couple years and they go and get even more clueless, I didn’t even know that was possible,” he groaned at the floor. He raised his head and addressed Oikawa, slightly louder, "ugh, what am I going to do with you, Oikawa?"

Oikawa turned his head to look at Matsukawa, a pout on his face, showing his displeasure at the current topic of discussion and poking his tongue out at Matsukawa, who responded with a mutter of, "such a child". Oikawa turned his attention back at Hanamaki, who was sitting back down at the counter and licking powder from his absconded pastries off his fingers, at which Oikawa visibly balked.

"Makki! Don't go taking food from the case at your pleasure! Besides, shouldn't you be studying for your biochemistry exam tomorrow instead of terrorizing my pastries with your insatiable sweet tooth??"

Hanamaki zeroed his gaze in on Oikawa, his expression torn between amused and irritated. Leave it to that idiot to remind him why he was here at one in the morning in the first place.

"Oho? Look at you, Oikawa, being the voice of reason and responsibility. I didn't know you had it in you," he drawled at Oikawa while shooting a look at Matsukawa, who was watching the exchange with amusement. "What?" Hanamaki asked when Matsukawa's gaze fell on him, ignoring Oikawa's squawk of protest, "Do I have powder on my face or something?"

Matsukawa sniggered, and tapped his own nose with a finger, indicating a sizable smudge of powder that was on Hanamaki's face. Frowning, Hanamaki rubbed at his nose, and pulled his arm away to see a smear of powder from the cream puffs on his sleeve. He mumbled a thanks before slouching in defeat, resigned to his fate of death by biochemistry. But of course, Oikawa couldn’t leave well enough alone, and had to go sticking his nose in Hanamaki’s business.

“Hey, Makki-chan, maybe Mattsun could help you with studying for that biochem exam? You’re good with biochemistry, right, Mattsun?”

At Oikawa’s words, both men turned sharply to look at him.

“Oi, don’t go deciding things for people, Oikawa.”

“Way to make me sound like a total idiot!”

Withering under both his friends’ glares, Oikawa scurried off to the far end of the counter farthest away from Matsukawa’s and Hanamaki’s glares to busy himself with cleaning the counter and restocking the coffee beans. Hanamaki sighed with exasperation, cursing Oikawa’s meddlesome existence and glowering at his empty coffee mug when Matsukawa addressed him.

“With that lovely segue… I don’t mind helping you with your biochem if you want. I’ve got nothing else to do, and I don’t feel like going home just yet. What part are you having trouble with?”

Hanamaki blinked. This guy was willing to help someone he just met not five minutes ago. Normally he would be wary of someone like that, but Matsukawa seemed like a pretty decent guy, and he was an old friend of Oikawa’s from high school, so he couldn’t be all that bad.

“Aah, it’s really the whole unit, to be completely honest,” Hanamaki griped, “We just started on energy bonds and metabolism and really, none of it makes a lick of sense.” He sighed dejectedly and looked up to meet Matsukawa’s eyes, which he noticed were a dark blue, “you sure you wanna help me out? I mean you just met me and all, do you really wanna spend the rest of the night helping me understand this bullshit course?”

At that, Matsukawa laughed, “‘Course. I studied it two semesters back, so I know how much of a bitch it can be. And to be completely honest with you, my sleep schedule’s been out of whack since i got back, so it’s not like you’ll be keeping me from sleep, and as much fun it is to poke fun at Princess Priss over there,” he pointed a finger at Oikawa, who made a noise of indignation, which went ignored, “I’d rather not resort to keeping only him as company for the next several hours.”

“Oh so I’m of second best to Oikawa then?” Hanamaki asked mischievously, “I’m flattered, Mattsun, I had no idea you thought so highly of me,” Matsukawa laughed again, and Hanamaki decided he liked hearing his laugh. It was rich, like warm chocolate, and filled his chest with a warm sensation that he had yet to decide whether it was a good or bad thing.

Sliding off the bar stool, Hanamaki indicated the spacious couch he had commandeered for the night and walked back over, Matsukawa following close behind. When he sat down, Matsukawa flopped down right next to him, groaning in satisfaction as he let his body relax completely into the plush cushions.

“Ohh, I like this couch, I love this couch, I really really do. Hey, Oikawa!” he called out across the empty cafe, Oikawa’s head appearing from behind the counter at the sound of his name, “I’m gonna take this couch home with me! Your boss won’t mind, will she?”

“You better not, Mattsun! Yuki-san would skin you alive if she learned you did away with her couch,” Oikawa called back. Matsukawa let out a defeated sigh and laughing slightly, before turning his attention fully to Hanamaki and his notes, intent on helping him get down the material.

Matsukawa, Hanamaki soon learned, was a really awesome guy, super patient and had a killer sense of humor. About an hour into their study/tutor session, he had removed his jacket, throwing it over the arm of their couch, and hitting Hanamaki with the realization that _yes his shirt was cropped short and wow he looked really good in a crop top_ \- wait, what? Hanamaki mentally shook his head, clearing away all thoughts of Matsukawa’s appearance.

At four am, Matsukawa and Hanamaki were both sprawled completely over the couch, their legs dangling over the back and armrests, and their heads laying next to the other’s towards the middle, staring up at the ceiling and its web of criss-crossing fairy lights strung high above them. Hanamaki’s laptop lay abandoned on the coffee table amidst several empty coffee mugs, and his loose notes were scattered around them on the couch and floor, the end result of him throwing them in the air in frustration and exhaustion. Biochemistry long abandoned, they had long since opted instead for sharing stories and anecdotes about school and Oikawa’s long-held crush on his best friend, and laughing at the sheer denseness of their two friends.

“I don’t understand it, Mattsun,” Hanamaki whined out, hand outstretched and gesticulating wildly as he relayed his story, “There’s Iwaizumi, shirtless, okay _fucking shirtless_ , and Oikawa is just standing there, being blatantly obvious in his staring, and Iwaizumi - _I swear to god_ \- doesn’t fucking realize his best friend is checking him out, he just walks into the damn kitchen, no shirt on, Oikawa all but chokes on his damn tea staring at him,” he dropped his hand, letting it rest over his eyes. “And then, _and then_ , he just looks at Oikawa, says something about his tea, I don’t remember what it was, and then _walks back out of the kitchen_ , without even blinking an eye! I don’t even know anymore if Iwaizumi is _that clueless_ , or if he’s just so used to Oikawa’s idiotic gaping at this point that he just ignores it. It’s truly painful to watch, Mattsun, I don’t know how much more of it I can take!”

Matsukawa lets out a pained laugh, “Oh god, I applaud you for living with that and _surviving_. You truly are amazing, Makki, I thought it was bad enough having to watch them gawk at each other just on the court in high school, but having to watch that every day, _live_ with that every day? Congratulations on not completely losing your mind.”

Hanamaki groaned long and loud, “I’m not so sure about that, pretty sure there were some lasting, long-term effects. Like how now, the urge to lock them in a storage closet until they’ve sorted out their feelings for one another is even stronger that it was a year ago!” Letting his hand fall from his face to flop over the side of the couch, Hanamaki stares tiredly up at the cafe lights. Matsukawa was right, this couch _was_ really comfortable.

“Just our luck,” Matsukawa said softly, “that we had to go and befriend the two biggest idiots in all of Tokyo.”

Hanamaki hummed in agreement, “How unfortunate,” he mumbled back.  

The cafe was silent around them, save for the soft piano music playing over the speakers, and Oikawa’s soft humming from where he sat listening to his own music behind the counter. The loud whirring of the coffee machines was absent, but the ever present smell of coffee still permeated their nostrils. Despite the copious amount of caffeine he had consumed throughout the night, Hanamaki felt his eyelids grow heavy as the lights above him grew blurry and faded from his vision.

 

* * *

 

When Hanamaki woke up, the first thing he saw was a person’s face. He squinted his eyes in the suddenly too bright cafe, before realizing, _‘wait it’s bright, that means it’s morning oh shi-,’_ and abruptly jerked upward into a sitting position, effectively bashing his forehead into the face of whoever it was who had woken him up, drawing out a loud yelp of pain from both parties. As he clutched at his now throbbing forehead, Hanamaki focused his watering eyes on who it was he had unintentionally headbutted, to see Matsukawa clutching at his own forehead.

“Matt-sun?” Hanamaki said blearily before panic flooded his system, hands jerking up to clutch at his pale hair and pulling at it, “oh shit, what time is it?? Fuck if I’ve missed my exam-”

Before he could jump up in a whirlwind of panic however, Matsukawa placed a placating hand on his shoulder.

“It’s 9:23, don’t worry, you’ve still got time.”

“Shit, I shouldn’t’ve fallen asleep, damn now I’m really gonna fail, fuck.”

“Hanamaki.”

Hanamaki paused in his panicked ramble and looked up. Matsukawa had said his name, his full name rather than his nickname, in a forceful yet serious manner, enough so to drag him out of his mind and focus just on his voice, and was looking at him with a serious expression, his blue eyes tired but alight. Hanamaki found it surprisingly easy to focus on Matsukawa’s eyes, his exam momentarily forgotten as he looked into those rich, swirling depths.

“You’re gonna be fine. You’ve got a really good grasp on the material already, now it’s all a matter of keeping your head. You’re not going to fail your exam, I know it.” Matsukawa continued looking at him, confidence showing in his face, and Hanamaki felt some of its effects spread to him. He let go of his hair and let his hands drop, holding Matsukawa’s gaze for a few more seconds.

“And if I do fail?” he asked, skeptically.

“Highly unlikely, but if you do, I’ll treat you to lunch as apologies for my abysmal tutoring,” he said, a lopsided smile stretching across his face, one which Hanamaki found looked really good on him.

“Alright,” he said, smiling back, “I’m holding you to that, Matsukawa.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way. Now, go kick that exam’s ass.”

Hanamaki smiled at him and got up from the couch and gathered up his still scattered notes from the night before. Crouching down to reach under the couch, he pulled the last page out from under it and looked around. During the day, the Fresh Leaf Cafe looked like any other standard coffee shop. The large windows let in all the natural light that was needed, so the fairy lights were turned off, and the tables and some of the couches were occupied by both students and adults in work clothes, who had stopped in for a quiet coffee before heading out to class or work. Standing up, Hanamaki stowed his notes and almost-dead laptop into his bag, before slinging it over his shoulder. Glancing over in the corner, he saw Mattsun seated on the barstool, and tuning his guitar. Hanamaki turned away and walked over to the cashier to pay his extensive tab, trying not to visibly balk too much at the grand total. When the transaction was completed, he turned around, waved a farewell to the barista on duty, and called across the cafe.

“I’ll see you later, Matsukawa!” he said, waving at the man, who looked up and waved back, a wide smile on his face that made Hanamaki’s stomach clench in a not uncomfortable way.

“Yeah, definitely! Good luck on your exam, Hanamaki!”

“Thanks!”

As he stepped out onto the sidewalk, Hanamaki paused to soak up the early morning warmth, before setting off to the biology building, feeling light on his feet and a warmth in his chest that he wasn’t to sure had anything to do with his exam.

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up (OvO)  
> [tumblr](http://dumbass-oikawa.tumblr.com)  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/mattsunsthighs)


End file.
